


Pastel Sounds

by CoffeesForFuckers



Category: Falling in Reverse, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks
Genre: Angst, Cute, Drama, Falling In Love, Ferard, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frerard, Friends to Lovers, Happy, Love, M/M, Mute!Ryan, Peterick, Possible smut, Sad, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trohley - Freeform, Weekman, Weird Love, friends - Freeform, past Brallon - Freeform, past ryden, weekeman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeesForFuckers/pseuds/CoffeesForFuckers
Summary: Pastel:Adj.Used to describe something of perfection"The Way He Looked At Me Was The Most Perfect Pastel."(ex: Rain on a window, high heels on pavement, Sunset On The Ocean)Ryan may not speak but Dallon Weekes makes him wish that he did.





	1. Fights and Sweet Oreo Coffee

###  Ryan

I feel knuckles shoved into my throat, hot breath on my face, his too close to my own. I swallow harshly, my knees are shaking and my breath is just as weak. I tremble like an idiot as I stand here.

_ Defend yourself, damnit! _

My mind yells at the rest of me to do something, for the love of god, how pathetic could I get!

“Cat got your tongue, Seaman?” The guy teases like a child.

“You'll make him cry if you keep talking like that, Ryan.” Another taunts, “Did your mommy never teach you how to talk, fag?” Ryan slams me backwards into the wall and my head bangs against the old, white-painted brick.

I wince at the pain, which is horrible, by the way.

“Are you really  _ so _ stupid that you can't speak!?” Ryan yells, pushing his balled fist, which gripped my collar, harder into my neck, causing me to choke, finally making a sound.

“Wow! It does make noise!” A kid I can't see, laughs.

“So you can talk!” Ryan spats in my face, I mean, of course I could speak, I haven't in fucking years but, I  _ can  _ speak, “Answer me!” He yells, his anger and frustration erupting from him.

I close my eyes and soon feel bones to the left side of my face, my head slammed back against the wall.

I think the worst part of this is that we're in a crowded, mall food-court and everybody just either walks past or watches. If anything, I'm embarrassed.

“Look at the retard who can't talk!” A person shouts and draws in more attention.

Just great.

One of Ryan's little friends slams a hand into my stomach and I thud against the wall again, this time the breath knocked from my lungs so hard that I wheeze violently.

“I bet he's so fucking stupid that he can't even wipe his own ass.” Some kid I recognize as Brendon, chuckles smugly.

My nose is bleeding.

Ryan palms me in the chest and knees me in the abdomen, the next thing I know, I've sunk to the floor, unable to breathe.

Someone kicks me in the side of the head, it's aggressively hard.

“Whoa! Whoa! What the hell- Leave the kid alone, Ross!” Someone yells, I turn my head up as Ryan is shoved back, away from me, “All of you! Get out of here  _ now,  _ or I'm calling the cops!” The guy is tall, probably over six feet, they all ran, I mean, I would too.

A hand is stuck out to me and I flinch, “Hey, it's okay… I'm just trying to help.” His voice is smooth and calm.

I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet.

“You were banged up pretty bad… Are you alright? Do you need me to bring you to a doctor?” I instantly wave my arms frantically and shake my head no and he catches my wrists.

“Calm down, honey-browns, I get it.” He chuckles and smiles at me with such a nice smile. I blush, I mean, I can't help it, this kid is pretty cute with this deep brown hair that flops down over his face in strands that looks like it's grown out a bit too much. (It's gorgeous either way). His eyes are a sharp, glowing-blue color, mostly blue with some gold-tinted specks littered throughout, he’s also had a small patchy beard that's mostly just stubble. 

He stands high over me, I have to look up at him, though, I’m sure that mostly everybody has to look up at him judging by his long legs.

His skin is so perfectly smooth, it's almost like porcelain, I'm honestly kind of jealous of how soft it looks.

“I'm Dallon Weekes.” He sticks his hand out to me and I take it, nodding, “What's your name?” He then asks and I panic.

I fumble around my brain for an answer but nothing comes to mind.

“Oh, you actually don't talk  _ at all _ , huh?” He says, “I've seen you around, but I just thought you were quiet.” Dallon admits.

I nod at him and he brings his hand up to my cheek, I, of course, jerk away from his advances, “It's okay, I'm just touching.” He calms, “I'm looking at the bruises.” 

I almost say ‘ _ oh _ ’, I almost forget I don't speak.

_ Almost. _

“That looks painful, I'm really sorry I wasn't able to get here earlier.” He frowns apologetically and I shake my head at him for the hundredth time, “How about I buy you something to drink and ask some yes or no questions to get to know you?”

I can feel my cheeks turning a shade of red and turn away, smiling like a fool as I nod at him.

“Alright, sounds cool.” He smiles and makes his way to get in line at the ‘ _ Marylou’s _ ’ coffee stand. I step up next to him and he turns to look at me, “I just realized that I have no idea how I'll be able to order you anything.” He laughs softly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

I wanted an oreo one but those weren't written on the menu so that just made this a million times harder. I frown and pull out my phone, googling my order and showing it to him.

Dallon laughs gently as he looks it over, “Okay, that sounds good… I may have the same.” He grins at me and I turn away with a smile on my face. Nobody had been this kind in years.

“You can get us a set if you want, I'll order and bring them over.” The man offers and I pull out my wallet to give him the money for it.

He pushes my hand back gently, “I've got it.” 

I almost say  _ ‘oh’ _ .

That’s twice in one day.

That’s new.

I nod and head over to a table by the window, looking out on the parking lot. Not much of a sight but that’s whatever to me.

He comes over and sits before me, handing me one of the drinks. I go to take a sip and he pulls it back, “Shit sorry, that one was mine.” Dallon puts the other before me and I start to laugh gently and watch his face light up, “You have such a nice laugh! I bet your voice is just as great.”

Nice try, pretty boy.

“So, you can’t talk at all, huh?” He says and I shake my head at him.

I  _ can  _ talk, I choose not to.

“Wait, so you can talk?” I nod vigorusly, “Oh… Why don’t-... Actually, never mind that.” He laughs awkwardly, “Wow, this is hard.” He says.

I turn to stare at my cup, swerling the straw through the somewhat thick drink.

“Fuck, I-... I didn’t mean to sound so rude, I get that you have reasons for being mute and I’m not judging you or anything and I’m not trying to say that you’re making this hard or anything like that, I just mean that I don’t really know how to act or… Um… I’m rambling… Sorry…” Dallon starts to awkwardly laugh, I look up at him halfway through his little speach and reach out, touching his hand to tell him that it’s okay.

“So, were you like bullied or something like that? Like, is that why you don’t talk?” I go to nod but make a face, it’s not really the reason but I guess it’s part of it.

“Not the whole story, I get it.” He nods, “So, um…” Dallon coughs, “How am I supposed to put you in my phone if I don’t have your name or number?”

I choke on my drink, fumbling with my phone to have him put in his number. He laughs at my eagerness and gladly puts himself in as a contact.

I text him once his gives me my phone back;

**_Ryan’s the name by the way, Ryan Seaman._ **

He looks down at his phone as it lights up.

“Ryan… It suits you.” He grins up at me and I blush, turning away. I did this too much.

“So, I have work at five and should get going, text me your address and I’ll bring you home.” He offers and I stand, “We can continue our little game of twenty questions on the way.”

I nod and send him the address. We make our way to the car and Dallon rambles on and on about a random story he remembered. It was cute and even though I wasn’t fully listening, I still very much enjoyed his talking.


	2. The Ocean Stole a Piece of Me

#  **Ryan**

I lay on the couch in the living room, blankets pulled up high around me, Hallmark movies on the TV. I know, Hallmark. Really? But I mean, the mystery ones were great!

I also had nothing better to be doing anyway.

My phone beeps and I check it, a new text from Dallon flashes onto the screen;

**_Picking you up in fifteen, be ready or I’m taking you the way you are :)_ **

I laugh, grinning at how casual he was. Usually, most people wouldn’t try to be friends with me. Usually, I was left out. I get why, I mean, who in their right mind would want to hang out with somebody who didn’t talk and didn’t try to even though they could. They just didn’t get it, I didn’t want to not talk, I just couldn’t force myself to talk.

It was hard to explain… Yes, I can talk and yes, I guess I did choose to not talk but I couldn’t physically make myself speak even if I want to, unless I’m alone that is. 

I told you it was hard to explain.

Impossible really.

I hurry upstairs to get ready and I’m sat by the door in three minutes flat. I’m actually excited, which is a new feeling. I liked it, I  _ really  _ liked it.

“Ryan! I-... Ryan? You’re dressed?” She’s shocked, I rarely go out, “What for?” She asks just as the bell rings. I stand and open the door.

“You ready to go, man?” Dallon is grinning on the other side of the door, “Oh! Mrs. Seaman! Ryan has, well, not really said a lot about you, but I can tell he really appreciates you!” He slides past me into the house, stretching his arm out to my mother.

“Ryan, who is this?” She asks me as though I’m seriously going to answer.

“I’m Dallon Weekes. I met Ryan at the mall the other day… Well, last week.” He chuckles, his hand still held out to my mother.

“Oh…” She mumbles, staring at him for a moment before finally taking his hand, “Why do you hang out with Ryan? What’s your catch?” Always so overprotective.

“Huh?” He gasped, taken aback, his body tensing, “I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean…” Dallon shakes his head and I step between them, facing him and trying to push him towards the door.

“Why do you hang out with him? He doesn’t talk. What do you want from him?” She presses and he doesn’t budge as I shove at him.

“I just want to be his friend, like… He’s cool even though he doesn’t talk… I have no ill-intentions towards him, I just genuinely like him and he fasinates me.” I feel him shrug as I push at him, my face against his chest.

“I don’t trust it, be warned that I’ll be watching you Mr. Weekes.” She grumbles and I’m on the verge of yelling ‘ _ let’s go!’ _ at Dallon but I force my own voice away as always.

“Okay, well, you’ll just prove whatever you think wrong because I actually do care about Ryan… We’re going out to eat and then to my family’s private beach, I’ll bring him home later tonight or tomorrow morning if we get caught up at the beach house.” Dallon relents to my shoving and backs towards the door.

“Goodbye, Ryan.” My mother huffs as we tumble out the door.

“Jeez… I thought your mom would be happy that I was getting you out of the house…” Dallon frowns as we make our way down my driveway. I reach out and touch his arm as a way to say I was sorry and that it was okay.

He grins at the action and opens the passenger door for me. He was such a gentleman. I slide into the passenger seat and he closes the door, walking around to the drivers side and clamboring in. He had such awfully long legs.

“So, are you vegan or vegitarian?” He asks as he peels out of my driveway.

I shake my head, “Alright, do you like family resturants? Like, Olive gaurdens and stuff?” He glances over at me as I shake my head.

“Hmm… In-and-Out?” He offers and I nod. It was probably a favorite of mine, “Hell yeah! In-and-Out here we come!” He cheers and I start to laugh at him.

His cheeks glow a beautiful shade of red, “Your laugh is so gorgeous.” He complements and my whole face burns red, “Awe, you don’t like complements, huh?” Dallon teases and I glow an even deeper shade of red as I nod.

He smirks as he watches the road, “Looks like I’m gonna be complementing you quite a lot then, Ryan.”

I watch my hands as I try to repress the violent blush that was eating away at me. I spin the ring I had on my hand around my finger. I only wore three, my grandfather’s wedding ring, an equality ring and an anchor ring. I had always had a weird love of anchor rings and apparal, never knew why. The equality ring was from my best friend that I had lost a while back, he left it to me in his note.

**_The words I wish I had told you will forever haunt me. I love you so much, thank you for letting me live through you, please take my ring and hold it close to you so I won’t ever be forgotten…_ **

I shake my head and Dallon is giving me worrying glances, “Ry, are you okay?”

“Y-...” I freeze and sit upright, I almost spoke, I almost said something without even thinking.

“What was that!? What did I hear just then!?” He cheers and I shake my head vigorusly.

“Okay, Okay, I’m sorry.” He reaches over and squeezes my knee as he pulls into the In-and-Out parking lot, “I won’t tease you about it anymore.” He chuckles.

We step out of the car and make our way into the food place. 

I text him my order and we sit down at a table. I watch my hands, which are rested on the table before me, twerling my rings around subconsiously. I feel Dallon’s ice cold fingers touch my hand. 

I jump and look up at him, alarmed. I reach over and grasp his hand in both of mine. His fucking hands were bigger than my head. I don’t even realize that his face is bright red, my eyes too focused on the contact I was making with him.

He clears his throat and I whip my head up to look at him, seeing his glowing red cheeks, I pull my hands away, almost muttering a  _ ‘sorry’ _ . I bite my lip, his hands were so cold, it was natural instinct to warm them.

Tyler always did it for me…

I shake my head and give a sorry smile, watching my hands again,pulling the equality ring that Tyler had given me off my hand, playing with it absentmindedly.

“That ring… You wear it all the time. It seems important.” He notices and I nod at him, “It’s nice.”

|||

We lay on our towels under the setting sun, Dallon was just a fun person, he was also rich and that made me feel a bit weird about being his friend. I reach to my hand to play with my equality ring and my stomach drops as I don’t feel it on my hand.

I sit bolt-upright and panic set in, “Hey, you okay?” Dallon sits as well.

I shake my head as I start bawling, I couldn’t help it, that ring was all that was left of him, “Whoa, hey, what happened? What’s wrong, Ry.” 

I stick my trembling hand out to him and point at my ring finger, the tanlines of the ring is the only thing there.

“Your equality ring?” He asks as he take my hand, looking at the empty space. I nod, sobbing my heart out and Dallon pulls me into him. I wrap my arms around him, he’s so soft and gentle as he holds me, rocking me back and forth to calm me, “It’s okay, Ry, it’s okay. I promise you that I’ll find it.” He coos.

He would never find it.

He’s probably going to just buy me a new one.

I guess it’s still a sweet gesture.

#  **Dallon**

It’s late and Ryan stayed over and I couldn’t sleep with my skin tingling from the touch of him. It was weird and wrong and I hated it. Why my skin felt all weird from him, I couldn’t tell you, it just did.

I frown as I run through everything that went on today, remembering how horribly upset Ryan was over that ring. I grab his phone off the nightstand and message his mother.

**_Hello, Mrs. Seaman… It’s Dallon. I know it’s rude of me to message you so late and from your son’s phone nonetheless, but I have to know… We were on the beach and Ryan lost his equality ring and I can tell it meant the world to him. Do you happen to know why it was so important? Like the story behind it? Thanks a lot, Dallon…_ **

I place it back on the nightstand but it almost immediately begins to buzz and light up with a new notification.

**_Hi, Dallon. That ring was really important to his best friend Tyler Joseph, it was left to Ryan in his suicide note. Him and Ryan were always inseperable and it crushed him to lose Tyler. He never got over it and that ring was the only thing that he could always keep close to him, that wouldn’t get old or thrown away, something he could always keep with him._ **

**_He lost it? Oh dear… He must be crushed…_ **

**_I hope he’s okay. You better be taking good care of him._ **

I read the message and tear up slightly. I felt awful for him.

**_Thank you for letting me know. I’ve calmed him down and he’s sleeping now. I promise you that I’ll find that ring no matter what. I already promised him the same. I won’t let you down!_ **

And with that, the messages stopped and I was left wide-awake for the rest of the night.

 


	3. Three - The Way You Sleep and The Way You Sing

#  **Ryan**

I wake up and squirm in the grip of something, unable to move around. I panic and start to fight against whatever was pinning me down. That is until I realize that it’s just Dallon and we’re just in his bed and this is just something normal friends do, I suppose. 

Normal friends sleep in the same bed and they sleep this close, they sleep with their arms firmly around one another, right?

I wouldn’t know.

I sigh and watch the ceiling above me. Dallon seemed so peaceful, snoring softly with his face pressed into my shoulder. His arms were strong, the muscles in his biceps are really nice as well.

I flush red at the thoughts in my head.

Bad, Ryan.

I shake my head and roll over without thinking, my chin bumping against Dallon’s forehead. I gasp, startled somehow.

Dallon grumbles something in his sleep, squeezing me closer and I gasp, yet again, “Dallon.” I whisper without thinking and I stiffen, he hadn’t heard me yet I still trembled, I still had this sense of panic, of dread.

I was petrified by what this one person did to me. I spoke, I didn’t think around him, I just went ahead recklessly.

His face pressed into my chest and suddenly I couldn’t think anymore.

|||

“Jesus, Ry… Your hair is... Uh… Blue…” Dallon speaks as he enters my bedroom after receiving a text from me saying that I needed his assistance. He’s so confused by my appearance, it is also four minutes past one in the morning so I understand that he would naturally be confused, “Why was I called down here again?” He mumbles, rubbing sleepily at his eyes.

The truth is, I couldn’t sleep and now my hair was blue and there was dye all over the bathroom.

I stand and grab his hand, pulling him to my bathroom, at which, he sighs and places his hand to his face.

“Jesus christ, Ryan… You need to be watched constantly, don’t you?” He mumbles sleepily, I nod, “Can we do this in the morning? I’m so tired, Ry.” He leans on me, pressing his head into the crook of my neck.

I can’t move, my feet now heavier than cement. Dallon squeezes his arms around my shoulders, “Ry? Can I stay the night?” He hums, his hot breath caressing my skin. I nod. I couldn’t function as my face burned.

“Let’s go.” He pulls me and I stumble, slamming against Dallon’s lanky form. I choke as it happens, his arms going around my waist to keep me steady, “Whoa! Steady there partner.” He giggles into my hair. My eyes get wide, I’m red and flustered and definitely, desperately falling in love with this stupid, tall kid with the bright purple bags under his eyes and the baggy pajama pants that’s keeping me from falling on my ass while my damn knees give out on me.

“You okay there, red-face?” He teases me lightly, tapping his fingers on my cheek.

“Uh!” I jump out of my thought and away from Dallon’s tired clingy-ness.

“Oh, you made noise.” He tries to sound confused but he starts to titter away softly. I can tell he is very sleep deprived.

I calm down after a minute and my heart stops drumming in my ears. Well, it’s still pounding but not so loud that the neighborhood could hear it, like it had been.

I open my mouth to ask if he was ready to get to bed, just as fast as I had opened my mouth, I had slammed it shut. I needed sleep.

I grab Dallon’s soft hands, pulling him back to my room. He looks at me calmly as we walk. The two of us are at my bed when I manage to glance out the window, seeing the way the stars shine and I just have to go look at them. 

I point at the window and Dallon yawns, “What is it?” He mumbles, rubbing his eyes. 

I make my way over to it and pull the glass up. I glance back at Dallon, hoping he got the memo and would follow after me. I swiftly slip through the opening, out onto the side roof over our attached garage.

“Hey, where are you going?” He leans out the window and I wave for him to join me. 

He seems to contemplate the request but soon follows, hes hesitant and wobbly on his feet as he slowly hobbles to me. Immediately he catches my arms to keep himself steady, “Sorry… I’m just not good with heights.” He’s shaky and flustered.

A man that tall is scared of heights.

Go figure.

I lay down and Dallon follows anxiously. He grips my hand tightly and butterflies erupt in my stomach. We watch the stars but I can’t focus with the tingling in my finger tips and my heart racing and my stomach in a tizzy. 

He gives me such a rush, it’s so weird.

I feel weird, so, so weird.

But a good weird.

I close my eyes and let a breath out of my lungs that seems to be trapped for years and I let a smile form on my face.

Peacefully, I fall asleep.

|||

I awake with the sun slamming against my face. I groan and roll over, slipping and almost tumbling from the roof like a dumbass. Dallon, though, catches me before I so much as roll far enough to the edge of the roof.

“Don’t do that, stupid.” He grumbles sleepily into my neck and my breath gets stuck in my lungs.

I cough after about a minute or so of not breathing, forgetting that was necessary to live.

“You okay?” He murmurs and I nod, “Hey, I think I’m gonna take a shower if you’re good with that?” He sits up, his voice is rough and makes me even more flustered than normal.

I swallow hard and sit up after a moment, nodding at him, “Can I also borrow some clothes?” He glances at me and my face glows red.

I open my mouth, about to stammer out a reply but stop, mouth hung open like an idiot for a few seconds before I started to nod and managed to close it.

We climb in through the window and Dallon slides into the bathroom. Soon the water turns on and I lay down on the floor in the middle of the room.

I close my eyes in contentment, waiting for the tall giraffe man to join me back in here. As I lay there I suddenly hear a voice and open one eye, waiting silently to see what the sound had been.

Singing.

Beautiful, beautiful singing.

Dallon.

I sit in awe at his voice. He’s singing words to songs that I’d listened to millions of times. He was so smooth and sweet, his voice made me feel so calm. Listening to him reminded me of a list I’d made-up over the past five or so years. It was just in my head, not a real thing that I’d written out, though. 

Pastels, that’s what it was. I decided on that name because pastels are soothing and calming, soft things, something that you wouldn’t notice unless you truly wanted to, something that made you feel some type of way. For example, heels on pavement, rain on the windows, waves at the beach, the smell of rain, fresh apple pie, orange and purple sunsets and my favorite of all the pastels… Dallon Weekes. His talking voice, his singing voice, those piercing but warm, blue eyes, his big hands, his warm hugs, the way he holds me when he sleeps, just anything and everything that is Dallon Weekes is a pastel.

His voice was the most perfect Pastel Sound ever to run through me.

Dallon steps out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist and I retract my previous statement.


End file.
